Shadow Play: Series One (1)
by lhigginns67
Summary: In 1986, amidst an incident at Westmarch High, Sarah Jane met Marvin Byers - something of an admirer, it seemed. A decade later, their paths cross once more. What is Marvin's fascination with the name Ruby White all about?
1. Chapter 1

2 March 1986

Quite ridiculous were the lengths required to go for a story sometimes, Sarah Jane thought. Perhaps Stapleton would talk this time, rather than through his secretary. Money laundering, among other business he had no right being caught up in. The headmaster of Westmarch High, no less. Suspiciously, the school's lauded reputation was easily upheld - the epitome of academic excellence, as it were.

Sarah Jane would get the truth out there - by hook and by crook, she'd do it. She'd met plenty of the evasive type, but this was something else.

A newly built, futuristic building stood before her. Fortunately no children to interfere - four o'clock, a wise choice of time for this interview, indeed. Sarah Jane modelled her best suit - Stapleton too, no doubt.

'Tea or coffee, Miss Smith? Or perhaps water - something to cool you down?'

Sarah Jane relaxed into the chair opposite the burly, greying man. The sweat in his palms suggested that it was _him_ who needed to cool down.

'No, I'm all right, thank you.'

Stapleton leaned forward, hands clamped.

'As long as you don't twist my words, Miss Smith, I'll tell you all you need to know.'

She hoped that wasn't what sounded like a threat. He seemed ready to finally cough up.

'I'm going to take notes, if that's okay?'

'Of course.'

Deep down, Sarah Jane couldn't help feel that four o'clock did seem just a little too convenient.

'Although, I may have to depart fairly soon,' Stapleton said. 'Don't want to miss my son's football match.'

'We better get on with it, then.'

Knock, knock.

Oh, typical.

Stapleton looked up.

'Enter.'

The door opened, and a lanky, forty-something year old man, with a greying Beatles haircut, appeared.

'Sorry, sir...'

'What is it?'

'Call from your partner Lorraine, in the office. Your son's in trouble.'

Stapleton sighed. Too convenient, indeed. Sarah Jane sat up.

'Look, we really are in the middle of-'

'I'm sorry, Miss Smith,' Stapleton said. 'Won't be long.'

Sincerity at its finest.

The man watched as Stapleton left, then shut the door behind him.

'Don't think he was going to open up, anyway, eh?' the man said, approaching Sarah Jane. 'Still, you'd have found a way - you always do. No wonder the Doctor was so fond of you, eh?'

Sarah Jane blinked.

'I'm sorry...who are you?'

He smiled.

'Marvin Byers. And no - oh, I'm sorry, I'm just a bit star struck.'

'Well, I'm hardly famous,' Sarah Jane sniped, folding her arms. 'Your average journalist, I'm afraid.'

Her articles weren't exactly promoting the existence of extraterrestrial life - she'd be in the nearest funny farm for that one.

'Did you get rid of Stapleton, just so you could talk to me? That meeting was rather important, you know.'

An admirer - _just_ what Sarah Jane needed. Marvin glanced at the door, then at Sarah Jane.

'I was right, Stapleton was never going to open up. Not metaphorically, anyway.'

Sarah Jane looked at him.

'Are-'

Marvin shushed her, and motioned to the door. She reluctantly complied, and they hurried out.

'I know you'll have seen some sights in your time, but...'

Stapleton stumbled out from behind a corner - or whatever part of him hadn't been turned inside out.

'He was a goner anyway,' Marvin quipped, heading for the exit. 'It was a pleasure, by the way.'

Wait, what just-

Sarah Jane turned.

'For what?'

But Marvin was gone.


	2. Chapter 2

15 July 1996

'_At approximately two o'clock yesterday afternoon, a man graciously plummeted from the fifteenth floor of a twenty-storey block of flats. To the song of Vienna, it was alleged.'_

Graciously? God, no wonder journalists had such a bad rep, thought Sarah Jane, briskly moving the morning paper to one side. Nothing out of the ordinary about this tragedy, yet something about it piqued her curiosity. Best not to pursue it until her current story on bio-chemicals was complete. With a little help from Claudia Coster, it'd be on her boss' desk by lunchtime. There was no BS with Stanley - you knew what his principles were and where you stood with him. This had been the appeal of working at Solayris in the first place.

Blanche, a fellow journalist, must have shared Sarah Jane's perspective, for she'd been here since her work experience placement at sixteen, many moons ago.

Sarah Jane looked at the only other woman sat at the opposite work station, desk phone pressed against her ear.

'...isn't the Sun, Mr Phelps,' Blanche retorted. 'We don't do hatchet jobs. We print the truth and only the truth, swear by my ma.

Three thirty? Sure. See you then.'

As she replaced the receiver, Blanche suppressed a sigh. Fourth attempt lucky, then. Still a better fourth attempt than had been with Stapleton, now that it came to mind.

'Stapleton had just been a bit of a loose end at the most,' Sarah Jane muttered to herself.

After all - especially in this job - no two days were the same.

Sarah Jane glanced at her own screen, then the paper. One more paragraph. Five other colleagues shared the workspace, though she rarely interacted with them.

'All right, girls?'

Sarah Jane didn't break away from her screen as Stanley approached their desk. If she didn't know better, she'd say he had it all. The crew cut, the newly ironed shirt. His shoes must have swam through the entire bottle of polish. No loans sharks or laundering here, thank goodness, accountancy being Stanley's top priority. If he was hiding something, his facade was practically unflappable.

'Almost done, Sarah?'

She nodded, amid a flurry of typing.

'Blanche, could I have a word?'

She arose, following the lanky man into his office. The second time this week. Not a reprimand, judging by Blanche's eager stride.

Sometimes her work was all the excitement she'd get. Since having been dropped back on Earth by the Doctor two decades ago, her home life felt nothing but...mundane. She kept herself to herself - after all, who'd believe her, if even for a minute, she divulged into her tales of her adventures with the Doctor?

Even her commute to work was run-of-the-mill. She could count the number of sets of traffic lights she passed, the number of stops her bus stopped at - heck, even the number of passengers on her bus each morning. Anti-matter monsters; Mummies; Sontarans.

All so long ago.

Sarah Jane sighed, closing her flat door behind her. At times it may as well have been a bedsit.

The landlord, Gregory, ran a tight ship regarding rent. Perhaps all those years ago, he could have kept Stapleton in check.

An early night was on the cards. A clear head would definitely be needed for tomorrow

'Morning, Sarah Jane,' yawned Blanche, half-drank cup of coffee in hand. 'You haven't seen Howard this morning?'

'No, why?'

'Seems to have skived off, even though he's a major deadline today.'

Oh.

'Stan called him in yesterday, if you remember,' she continued, motioning to Stanley's office. 'Still in there when the rest of us were heading.'

Sarah Jane hadn't even noticed that. Strange. She hadn't been lacking sleep lately, or anything. And Claudia had only kept her for just over ten minutes on the phone. The article about that suicide wasn't _that_ engrossing, was it?

'How'd your meeting with Phelps go, then, Blanche?'

Blanche snorted.

'A wheelie bin would've strung together a polysyllabic response better than that eejit. It's just as well I forgot my tape recorder.'

Sarah Jane chuckled.

'What did Stanley say?'

Blanche shrugged.

'He's running a wee bit late, actually, so I've yet to give him the good news.'

Sarah Jane supposed there was a certain...unpredictability with Stanley, as well. He ran a tight ship with finances, but not punctuality - which was probably her one irk about him. The occasional deadline and tea-break extension compensated more than enough.

Speak of the devil. All heads shot up, as Yours Humbly marched through the double doors. As he continued down the room, each gradually resumed their work. Stanley approached Sarah Jane, clutching a newspaper.

'Thought this might interest you,' he said, placing it on her desk.

She watched as he headed for his office, not another word uttered to anyone.

'_SECOND VIENNA SUICIDE IN 48 HOURS'. _

Similar circumstances to the first. Similarly worded article, as well.

But she hadn't informed him of her interest in...

'Blanche, have you seen this?'


	3. Chapter 3

How Sarah Jane wished it had surprised her.

'If you two buggers are going to spit on your deceased colleague's grave, then forget about being on my payroll.'

For the better part of the last ten minutes, Stanley had become the epitome of Stormin' Norman. The two employees in question swiftly shut up, looking meekly at their desks. Sarah Jane sensed just an ounce of upset lingering in his voice, possibly threatening to take hold.

She couldn't help wonder, though. Why had he - rather discreetly, at that - directed her attention to that headline this morning? Stanley likely knew beforehand - decided to respect Howard's family's wishes and protecting his anonymity. Had to be.

How did Stanley know of Sarah Jane's interest in the initial suicide headline, in the first place? Even something like that first headline wouldn't be enough to keep her awake at night.

'Right,' Stanley barked. 'Till I find a replacement, there's some overtime going on offer, starting tonight. Any takers?'

Amid an uncomfortable silence, Blanche and one other gradually raised their hands.

'How about you, Sarah? Star employee, and all.'

It could put her mind at ease. Put these questions and thoughts chewing away at her to rest.

'All right.'

Stanley nodded.

'See you three at six.'

It had honestly never occurred to Sarah Jane that being in her own workspace after hours could feel strange. It was only for a couple of hours, so nothing strenuous. She occasionally eyed Blanche devour a half-portion of chicken fried rice, having only eaten a ham sandwich herself. Safe to say, journalists really did have the worst eating habits at times.

Sanjay, the other colleague due this evening, must've been running a bit late. Or taken an unusually long time on the toilet. Hopefully Stanley didn't mind.

On Sarah Jane's screen, only half a headline existed. Blanche, however, fluctuated between mouthfuls of rice and furious clicking on her keyboard. The sooner she could go home to her son, Sarah Jane supposed.

Sarah Jane began typing. Had to start-

'Sarah, could I have a word?'

Her head snapped up, to see Stanley outside his door.

Good timing, actually, thought Sarah Jane. There were a few things she needed to ask him, anyway.

'Just leave it open.'

Sarah Jane complied, as she...

Oh.

Sanjay...his organs...his guts...displayed like a museum exhibition. Of the many horrific things she'd seen with the Doctor, it seemed they couldn't top this.

'A bit of a loose end, wasn't he, that Stapleton?'

It couldn't be.

'How do you...how did you know I was interested in those...'

Oh.

'How could you do that to them? Three innocent people.'

Sarah Jane froze as a knife rested against her throat, while a strong arm held her tight.

'For your benefit, really.'

Blanche?

Sarah Jane stumbled forward, as Stanley forced her against his desk, pinning down both arms.

Oh, no. No.

'Think about what you're doing,' begged Sarah Jane. 'Please - you don't have to do this.'

The woman who Sarah Jane had sat with - worked with - for years, was now going to...

The knife was poised, ready to strike. Blanche grinned.

'Please-'

THUD!

Blanche jarred, flopping to the floor.

THUD!

Stanley too.

Sarah Jane looked to see a familar man grasping a shovel.

He smiled.

'Hello, Sarah Jane.'

'Marvin?'

With long hair and a beard now, it appeared. Marvin dumped the shovel and pulled Sarah Jane to her feet, smiling.

'Not going to run off this time, don't worry.'

'What are you doing here?'

Marvin put his hands in his pockets.

'Surely Bonnie and Clyde here answer that question,' he said, nodding to the man and woman sprawled across the floor.

Oh, enough with the smart-aleck answers, thought Sarah Jane.

Marvin paused, then looked Sarah Jane straight in the eyes.

'I need you.'


	4. Chapter 4

Sarah Jane sighed. She'd have preferred somewhere a little more discreet than a cafe. But if Marvin had nothing to hide...

'I didn't realise the "investigative" part of your job title was just for show.'

Marvin took a sip of his coffee. He would had to have paid for both of them anyway, if anything on the menu had taken Sarah Jane's fancy. Probably would've happily obliged.

'It's not my job to pursue missing person cases, Marvin,' she replied. 'That's up to the police. And besides, journalists and police officers have never exactly been best friends.'

He flashed a smirk.

'Good thing I'm only a detective, then.'

Which Sarah Jane guessed explained how Marvin was so familiar with her. Oh, they were going to get on like a house on fire.

'And this woman, Ruby White. What's so important about her, that you want to track her down?'

'I never said she was a woman,' Marvin said, taking another sip. 'Ruby White could be a code name. A town name. An artefact. An organisation.'

'I see. And just how willing did you think I would be to do this?'

Marvin leaned back, looking at her thoughtfully.

'Not at all. In fact, I thought you may have taken a leaf from Eastenders' book, and chucked a pint in my face.'

Ha, ha, ha.

'What do you charge, Marvin?'

There was no way she would be able to afford it, anyway.

'What do _you_ charge?' he asked 'Or what would they normally pay you?'

Wait, what?

'But-'

'It's on me,' Marvin smiled. 'Besides, how else are you going to get by for the next while?'

Was Sarah Jane reasonable for having suspicions about Marvin? Or simply being too paranoid?

'I don't have an agenda, in case you're wondering.'

Sarah Jane's time with both Stapleton and Stanley, rather unfortunately, made that hard to believe. At present, she couldn't bring herself to allow Marvin into her flat. He seemed to understand, keenly inviting her into his semi-detached house.

Files; pictures; books; you name it, his study was littered with them. Okay, so Marvin irrefutably had an interest in her, but could the same be said for extraterrestrial life? A Fox Mulder wannabe?

'And I don't work for the Government, or any secret or illegal organisations,' Marvin stated, heading into the kitchen. 'Only myself. I know you probably don't trust me - I am, of course, still a complete stranger to you.'

He wasn't wrong there. Marvin returned, approaching a table in the corner (his workspace?), carrying a large ring binder, and a cup of coffee.

'Are you familiar with the Mallory Phyper case?'

'The...poisoning at that chemicals factory, back in '74, that left twenty-four dead?'

Marvin nodded.

'The perpetrator, Samuel Claxton,' he said, motioning to what Sarah Jane assumed to be Claxton's profile. 'A name of interest to me, ever since. We find him, we can start scratching the surface of RW.'

Sarah Jane _wasn't_ particularly willing to participate in this, but it was beginning to look as if she'd soon have no choice.

'Horribly unrelenting, I'll add.'

_Of course. _

'You'll want some time to think this over,' Marvin continued, taking a sip. 'I'll give you my number, and you can maybe give me a bell tonight.'

He scribbled it down, and passed the page to Sarah Jane.

'All right?'

She glanced between Marvin and the number. She sighed.

'Okay.'

Some day that had been. Sarah Jane was in need of a good night's rest tonight, but given the things she needed to contemplate as sort out, it'd be unlikely to happen. She looked at Marvin's number for a moment, then picked up her landline and dialled.

'Claudie, it's Sarah.'

'_You're lucky you caught me, Sarah. What can I do for you?'_

'Is there anyone on your - or the Government's - payroll under the name Marvin Byers?'

'_I don't believe so.'_

'Could you double-check?'

Clicking could be heard on Claudia's end.

'_Nope_,' she replied. '_No Marvin, or Byers.'_

'Are you absolutely sure?'

'_Positive. Something the matter?_'

Sarah Jane sighed.

'I'm maybe just being over-paranoid,' she began. 'He claims to be a private detective, and he wants my help on a case of his. Also happens to be something of an admirer of mine.'

'_Keep an eye on him, Sarah. If anything suspicious does happen, call me._'

'All right, thanks, Claud.'

She replaced the receiver, and sighed.

'_...absolutely sure?'_

'_Positive. Something the matter?'_

'_I'm maybe just being over-paranoid. He claims to be a private-'_

A man switched off the tape machine, and removed his headphones. Placing the machine into a bag, he zipped it shut, and picked up his portable phone.

'Line two, please.'


	5. Chapter 5

'I didn't think you'd accept at all, Sarah Jane.'

She couldn't really go back on it at this point, could she? Having frankly jumped the gun with Claudia, it wasn't possible any more. As long as Marvin didn't find out about that, everything could sail smoothly.

'I probably wasn't going to have much choice, in the end.'

Marvin flashed a smile, then pinned two photographs on the wall above his sofa.

'Claxton didn't care if there were fatalities that night, just that his retaliation instigated the response it didn't.'

'Against the Government, wasn't it?'

Marvin suppressed a sigh.

'You'd really have to rack your brains for that one, eh? Surprise, surprise, it's specifically MI5 who have to deal with him.'

Did he...Maybe Marvin already knew Claudia, but was just being polite in not mentioning it.

Marvin turned towards the two photographs. The first one displayed a map.

'He's going to strike again, I'm guessing?' asked Sarah Jane.

Marvin grabbed a pen.

'Here, here, and here,' he replied, connecting the three points. 'Point one. The Tube station.'

Just how long had Marvin been following Claxton's movements, and how thoroughly? As much as he seemed to admire Sarah Jane?

'I'm going to hazard a guess at the link being... Am I a target, Marvin, because you seem terribly keen to involve me in all of this.'

'Doubt it,' he smiled. 'Unless you've got friends in anywhere other than UNIT.'

Oh. So, yes, then.

Sarah Jane did, however, feel slight relief that he was oblivious about Claudia.

He turned to the map.

'First stop - the Tube. If it's a dead end, we'll focus on spots two and three when we return.'

Sarah Jane really _didn't_ have much choice, now. If she had refused, how big a cost would it have been at?

From the front windscreen of his car, Marvin and Sarah Jane looked at the derelict Tube station.

'Rush hour. That's my best bet.'

Thousands of innocent people potentially dead from poisoning. Did this horrific scenario concern him as much as Sarah Jane?

'If he is here, how will you apprehend him?'

Marvin smirked.

'By taking a leaf from the good ol' Sweeney,' he quipped. 'No, I was just going to see how it plays out.'

He looked at Sarah Jane.

'I'm guessing you don't have a better idea?'

She sighed. There probably wasn't a better - or safer - idea. How well had Marvin thought this plan through? Probably better than he was letting on.

'Will Claxton have changed his appearance, like you?'

Marvin shrugged. What was probably a rather inevitable question, had lingered in Sarah Jane's mind for quite a while.

'I'm guessing I won't get an answer, but where does Ruby White come into all of this?'

Marvin tapped his nose.

Of _course_ that would've been too easy.

Marvin checked his watch.

'Two minutes. Come on.'

As they approached the platform, several people were already present. Staying in the shadows seemed to be Claxton's style, but what if he wasn't here? Marvin seemed just a little too keen.

The platform began to fill with commuters, none of whom remotely resembled Claxton. If this wasn't the target, then where _would_ be? MI5, itself? Oh God, Claudia.

'I bet he's one step ahead of us, actually,' said Marvin. 'They usually are.'

Oh, why did she agree to be involved? With a man who, yes, was still just a complete stranger. She probably wasn't going to have a choice in the end.

They headed further and further into the growing crowd, when a man in a cap bumped into Marvin.

'Oh, terribly sorry, sir,' the man said.

Marvin nodded.

Not Claxton, Sarah Jane gathered.

She noticed him reaching into his pocket, followed by a brief flash of a piece of paper.

'What is it?'

Marvin didn't respond, continuing on.

'We've been wasting our time,' he said curtly, swerving back towards to the exit.

'But you were-'

'Yeah, yeah.'

Sarah Jane found herself jogging a little to keep up Marvin's rapid strides.

What was that about?

Remarkably, Marvin seemed to be keeping within the speed limit - frustration clearly an understatement.

'Did you know him, Marvin?'

Silence.

If he drove any faster, Marvin would fly right past his own home, for it was only around the corner.

'Marvin?'

He heaved a sigh.

As they turned the final corner, an orange glow and smoke came into view.

The car stopped, and they hurried out.

'No!' he cried, head buried in his hands. 'Bastards!'

Thick black smoke flooded from the windows, the rest of his house engulfed in a furious blaze of flames.

'Marvin, what-'

'The bastards.'

It was quiet, but the fury was irrefutably simmering underneath.

'Who, Marvin?'

He breathed in and out, then headed towards his car.

'Come on.'


	6. Chapter 6

Some hours later, Marvin and Sarah Jane sat in his car, a safe distance from the fire.

Marvin had his arms folded.

'Did you make any phone calls within the last couple of days?'

She had, but at present, was quite hesitant to tell him.

'Why?'

'Did you?'

Sarah Jane glanced between him and the windshield. She'd have had to tell him, anyway, wouldn't she?

'They'll probably have traced it, the bastards.'

'Who, Marvin?'

'The ones who did that. Trying to...'

He sighed.

'Do you have alternate living arrangements, Marvin? Brother, sister, anything like that?'

He shook his head.

'I could try and help you find somewhere, if you want?'

Marvin leaned back.

'We move on to point two, first.'

'Where's that?'

Marvin sat up.

'The old police station on Coulson Avenue.'

What appealed to Claxton about an abandoned police station? Liked to mix things up, maybe? As they pulled up outside it, Sarah Jane had an uneasy feeling about it.

They approached the entrance, and-

'Nice night for a walk, Byers.'

They turned to see a short man in a waistcoat. Sarah Jane looked at the man beside her.

'Marvin?'

'Name's Clarence, Miss Smith,' the man replied. 'Here to protect you. Byers, however...been sent to do a little peeping on you.'

So, it..._had_ been too good to be true.

'He's not protecting anyone, Sarah Jane. Only himself.'

But could she believe that?

'And Claxton?' Clarence shot back. 'Who's protecting him?'

Looking at Sarah Jane, he produced a portable phone and dialled.

'Maybe your little friend at MI5 can tell us.'

Claudia? What...

Marvin looked at her.

'_I'm...I'm sorry, Sarah - oh, please don't hurt...'_

No. Oh God, Claudia.

'If she doesn't play along, Miss Smith...,' Clarence said, making a gun gesture at his head.

'_But it's not us Marvin works for, though, Sarah. He...He...'_

'Finish the sentence, Claudia.'

Long pause_. _

'_He...He works for...for the FSO.'_

Sarah Jane stared at Marvin, while Marvin did so at Clarence.

'I severed ties with them years ago - Claxton isn't involved with them!'

Clarence smirked.

'But _you_ were still involved, Byers. No point denying it.'

'I have _never_ been a spy, Clarence, and you know that!'

'What's the FSO?' Sarah Jane asked.

A black car pulled up alongside Clarence.

'I'll give Byers that honour. And Claudia twenty-four hours.'

Oh no. Claudia.

As he opened the door, Clarence glanced between them.

'Good night.'

Betrayal. Fear. Frustration.

Marvin better have had a good explanation.

**To Be Continued...**


End file.
